Ship of the Damned
22st of July 2006 A.D.
For a split second you consider calling out, allies in unlikely places, Katrina is weaker to an attack from many angles. But what kind of allies would they be against the likes of the Capriporpus? You look towards Gard. "Send them away! They are going to get hurt!" you whisper.
To your surprise the ancient warrior seems unsure, glancing left to Harry: "Katrina would will sense this," she warns
"We're close enough," Harry answers as the air grows heavy with power, his own or Gard's you aren't sure.
A moment later as the light grows nearer the once-Chooser of the Slain raises her left hand and draws a pair of runes upon the air, one like a cross between an M and an X and another like a backwards 1 whose point is aimed right at the approaching agents.
"We have to be getting close, I haven't seen anything this bad since... El Paso... we... should..." the words grow slower as he speaks them, eventually stuttering, like his mind is catching up to the compulsion. "We need to go back, secure the entrance for so we are not trapped in here. Are the cameras still up at the entrance?" You do not hear the response, but you guess that's a 'no'.
"Alright then we'll go back and make sure the LLEs haven't gotten to it..."
Now you hear the voice on the radio, static-y from all the magic in the air, but still loud, angry or concerned. They demanding to know what is going on, not that the agents have any intention of answering as they turn around to 'check the door.' Something tells you they won't stop at the door, but will find some other reason to go right through it.
"Well that isn't creepy at all," Lydia drawls, though you can hear the shadow of real disquiet behind the words. After what happened to her she's probably not a fan of mind magic.
"Less 'creepy' than the use they would be put to by the powers herein."
No one among you doubts that one. You are a little surprised though when Lydia takes a pair of... well not brass knuckles, they seem to be made of polished steel out of her purse.
"What?" she asks, looking between you and Harry. "Pays to be prepared."
You make a mental note to tease Daniel about his girlfriend being armed like she's from fight club, but for now the long dark ahead awaits.
Thus you make your way down wide and sweeping corridors meant for crowds of onlookers, not silent save for the groaning of specters under the blind glimmer of dead neon casting back the mage-light. You come thus to a wide arch leading into a great hall filled with cases and models and little plaques in honor of history water foaming and bubbling as it races across the concrete. It's only ankle-high, but it pulls at the legs harder than aught... pulling you towards the thing in the center of the room, the piece de resistance, a fully intact submarine painted blue and grey shifting on its supports like a ship at sea in truth. A searchlight moves on its conning tower, the same hateful blue as the dead men's eyes.
It's not just the searchlight that swerves. Wreathed in ghostly flames. a pair of deck guns swivel without a hand to move them and in a single ear-shattering roar fire.
And within you fire rises to meet them, poison green like the heart of a dying star, soul mind and hand move as one and in a screech of tearing metal you cut the shell out of the air.
There's two of them, there's two of them, your mind screams, but even you are not that fast. Yet there is no explosion behind you or beside you, no warm blood gushing from flesh torn asunder by phantom guns only flash of silver light, cold as starlight upon a marble brier and the impossible sound of a fist striking steel and the steel breaking.
Lost 1 Essence -> Now at 8/12
There was Lydia, looking at once wide eyed at her own deed and filled with a power beyond mortal ken, shining clear through her flesh, casting an unnaturally sharp shadow even upon the rushing water. She laughs clear and fair and if there is anything of humanity to that voice then it is faint and far away: "Race you to the top!"
The guns will get another short at you before you can get under them at this range, Usum calmly informs you and Harry had raises a shimmering barrier between the ship and you, but just as you are about to lunge forward, trusting sword, spell and apparently fist to take on the guns, you notice some fifty feet ahead a familiar figure, though looking far more ragged and worn than you had seen him last, Matthews, one hand stretched out over a great dark stone and another holding a knife of bone. He's about to slit his wrist onto it.
What do you do?
[] Race to the sub with Lydia, let Harry and Gard deal with the old man
[] Advance on the submarine together
[] Write in
OOC: So you know how Bob possessing Sue gave her back her flesh, well this is the same but with a Nazi submarine getting back its deck guns. 
